An Error In Judgment
by rankamateur
Summary: Basically, Amanda has great instincts - but a few times she trusted people she shouldn't have - anybody can make an error in judgment.


An Error In Judgment  
  
by rankamateur  
  
References to:   
"Wrong Number" by David Brown   
"Savior" by Marshall Goldberg  
"Artful Dodger" by Pamela Chase  
"Spiderweb" by Juanita Bartlett and Stephen Hattman  
"Filming Raul" by Rudolph Borchert  
"Legend of Geisterschloss" by Stephan Hattman  
  
Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner Bros. and Shoot The Moon Enterprises, Ltd.  
  
AU.   
  
3rd Season. After "Wrong Number".  
  
Basically, Amanda has great instincts - but a few times she trusted people she shouldn't have - anybody can make an error in judgment.  
  
Thanks rb for your help.  
  
-----------------  
  
Just as Lee was about to suggest a coffee break, preferably one taken out of the Agency, the phone rang. "Q-Bureau, Stetson."  
  
"Lee, are you busy?"  
  
"No Billy, what's up?" Lee groaned inwardly - there went the opportunity for a little private time with his partner.  
  
"I need to see you and Amanda in my office ASAP, please." There was an obvious urgency in Billy's tone of voice.  
  
Amanda looked at Lee from across the desk with a questioning expression on her face.  
  
"Sounds important." He nodded his head and held up his hand in a *wait a minute* kind of gesture.  
  
"It is. I just got a call from Mort Mahoney over at I.A.I.S. He thinks there's a mole working in D.I.A. and he wants our help. I told him I'd put our best team on it, starting today."  
  
"Gee Billy, I'm impressed. I didn't know you knew anybody at Inter Agency Intelligence Service. In fact, I didn't think anybody over there would talk to anybody here, except maybe Dr. Smyth."  
  
"Very funny Stetson. Now get down here - on the double."  
  
"Yes Sir." Lee hung up the phone and got up from his desk. "Well, Billy's got an assignment for us. Sounds like it's top priority. It involves the I.A.I.S.!"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"It's even more secret than we are. If the intelligence community were shaped like a pyramid," he formed his thumbs and index fingers into the shape of a triangle, "the IAIS would be at the very top."   
Lee stood and held out his hand.  
  
"Wow. OK, let's go, " Amanda stood and pushed the chair she had been using back against the wall. 'Someday,' she thought, 'I just might have a desk of my own up here.' Then she reached for the hand Lee had extended to her and they headed for the door.  
  
------------  
  
Exiting the closet elevator, they walked down the hall, Lee unconsciously guiding Amanda with his hand on her back. The guard opened the door to the bullpen and they walked directly to the office where Billy, spotting them through the window, waved them in.  
  
"Here's what we have so far," Billy pushed a folder, which contained several computer printouts and some papers with his hand written notes, across the desk . "There was a car accident this morning. The driver turned out to be a known Russian courier. He was carrying microfilm which IAIS had developed. The documents photographed were the same kinds of things that we know have been turning up in KGB hands. The IAIS boys have been working on this but without much luck. So, Mort called and asked for our help."  
  
"That's something, for those *super spies* to admit they're stumped," Lee observed wryly.  
  
"Yeah, it is. And that's why I'd really love to solve this one for them," Billy grinned. "Let 'em know who's the best in this game. Anyway, the kinds of documents that they have discovered are going over to the other side suggest that the source is probably one of four people, all of them working at D.I.A."  
  
"Boy, Billy, more top-secret types. Are we getting in over our heads here?"  
  
"No, I don't think so, Scarecrow. I'll match the agents in this unit against the best that any of the other intelligence agencies have on their payrolls. May I continue?" Billy asked, looking over the top of his glasses at Lee.  
  
"Please.........," Lee sat back in the chair and folded his hands in his lap.  
  
"Thank you. Now, as I said the source for these particular documents seems to be one - or possibly more, I suppose - of these four: Daniel Arnold, Michael Peterson, Maurice Duprey and Martha Dubin. I've already run a background check on each of them. The results are in that folder, along with a few other things I've come up with."  
  
"And in your very own handwriting, Billy. I may need a translation," Lee tried to look serious.  
  
Amanda, glancing at some of the papers, shook her head in agreement. "Your handwriting is a bit, ahh, difficult to read, Sir."  
  
"Sorry. I was in a hurry. If you need clarification of some of my notes, just let me know. Now, Amanda..."  
  
"Yes Sir," she gave Billy her full attention.  
  
"We know that this Ms. Dubin is going to be working on one of the committees responsible for organizing the *DC Government Employee's Charity Gala*. I want you on that committee with her - get to know her - see what you can come up with. Charity work should be right up your alley."  
  
"Yes Sir, it is. But what about the other three suspects? Shouldn't I be helping Lee investigate them?"  
  
"I want Lee to get started on the three men and if he needs your help, fine. But mainly, I want you getting next to this Martha Dubin. If she is working for the other side, you're the one who can find that out for us," Billy finished with an encouraging smile.  
  
"Yes Sir, thank you Sir. I won't let you down, Sir."  
  
"I know you won't, Amanda. OK you two, hit it!"  
  
------------  
  
Marika Dubinsky, as she was born fifty-seven years ago in the Ukraine; though known for the last thirty-odd years to her American co-workers as Martha Dubin, was tired. Tired of being cautious, tired of being afraid, tired of wondering if the next knock at the door would be the U.S. authorities, coming to arrest her. She had worked for the very secret DIA for almost thirty years, the last fifteen as the executive secretary to the Director, Norman Bishop. As Mr. Bishop's secretary, she had been privy to every secret project, investigation and operation conducted by the DIA. Her intelligence gathering had been of enormous value to her Soviet superiors. But she was getting older, slowing down. She had made a mistake last week. In her view - a big mistake. She had told comrade Zukov, her KGB handler, about it and had asked - no had *begged* him to arrange passage to the USSR for her - the sooner the better. But Zukov had refused. "Just watch and wait," he said. "Mr. Bishop trusts you implicitly and you explained why you were photographing those files, did you not?" Zukov had smiled and continued to try and assuage her fear. "Your story was convincing, was it not? That you were simply checking out a new camera for a friend in the Photo Surveillance Section to see if any untrained person could use it effectively. He believed you, did he not? So relax. A few days - a week at the most and we can be sure that you are safe. Once you can get your hands on *Operation Roundup* and have the names of all the American and European agents involved, you can quit. You can fly off to Moscow and be welcomed as a Heroine of the Soviet Union." He had finished his little speech with a reassuring pat on her arm and left her - alone.   
Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one with the burning pain from the ulcer which, she was sure, was worsening by the hour. And now, to top things off, she had to be involved in this damnable charity affair. Normally, Mr. Bishop's wife would have represented him, but she had been called to California to be with her mother, who had taken suddenly and seriously ill. So, Martha would be on the coordinating Committee, along with several DC socialites, whose names she had read repeatedly in the newspapers, and a Mrs. King, who, she knew from her KGB contacts, worked for The Agency as the partner of the legendary Scarecrow, a fact which Martha found not simply coincidental, but rather ominous. She had tried to convey her newest concern to Zukov; an Agency operative showing up in her life, on this charity project. Martha was sure she was under suspicion and being investigated. But he had brushed aside her fears - again. There were other D.I.A. employees with access to the same materials. If there was an on-going investigation - she wouldn't be the only one under scrutiny. There was time....time to get what was needed by their KGB bosses.  
So, it had to be done. She would play her part and do her best to charm this Mrs. King as she had charmed her co-workers over these many years. Her carefully cultivated personality was warm, friendly, outgoing. She had a good sense of humor and sparkling blue eyes, which seemed to validate her ready smile. Martha was motherly or grandmotherly - depending on the age of her person she was trying to get close to. She had fooled a great many people over a very long time. And Amanda King was just one more gullible American to be duped.  
  
------------  
  
Amanda liked Martha Dubin from the first moment they met. Martha was probably about the same age as Dotty and in fact she seemed to Amanda to be a cross between her mother and her friend, Emily Farnsworth. An irresistible combination of warmth, wit and intelligence. The feeling seemed to be mutual and the two women hit it off at once.   
  
"Let's get started, shall we ladies?" The speaker was a tall, very well dressed red head, Mrs. Franklin Dietz. Her husband was a very important man in DC. This committee was made up of the wives or, in the case of Martha and Amanda, the designated replacements for the wives, of very important U.S. Government workers.   
  
The other members of the committee were from a different social strata and it was logical that Amanda and Martha would wind up being assigned to the same tasks. The kind that entailed a great deal of hard work and received very little recognition.   
  
Amanda didn't mind this arrangement, since it provided her with the perfect reason to spend time with, and talk to Martha. They had a few meetings of their little subcommittee over lunch, and one dinner meeting. In these relaxed surroundings, Amanda was able to draw Martha out, about her background and her life.  
Martha had told Amanda that she worked in an obscure division of the Dept. of Agriculture, which, Amanda discovered, was the standard cover for employees of D.I.A. Of course, she could hardly fault Martha for that little deception since she had introduced herself as an employee of I.F.F.  
As far as Amanda could tell, Martha was a nice, hard working, loyal secretary. Certainly more like a typical bureaucrat than a possible spy.  
  
---------  
  
"So, Mrs. King....."  
  
"Please, call me Amanda, I thought we settled that already. We've been working together for how many days now?"  
  
The two women had finished lunch and were sipping the last of their drinks - tea for Amanda and coffee, with a lot of cream, for Martha.  
  
"Amanda, yes, of course. We have been working together for, well for several days now, but at my age, one tends to forget some things," she smiled engagingly, "tell me about your husband my dear. Does he work for the government? You said you were representing the wife of some film company official, I believe."  
  
"Umm, yes, I'm doing this because of my job at IFF. We make documentaries for the Government. My bosses' wife, Mrs. Melrose, was unable to be here, to be on the committee. But, I ahh, I'm divorced. For just about four years now. And my ex-husband's job wouldn't qualify him for this event. How about you. Are you married?"  
  
"No, never. I'm *Miss* Dubin. I was engaged though, a long time ago," Martha gazed off into the distance and bit her lower lip.  
  
"Oh.......may I ask....what happened," Amanda inquired hesitantly.   
  
"Well, I don't like to talk about it but......my young man was killed in Korea." Martha fumbled in her purse and pulled out a tissue, which she used to wipe her eyes.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories." Amanda reached over and patted the older woman's arm sympathetically.  
  
She was getting to like this lady so much, she was beginning to forget that she was supposed to be investigating her. Amanda would have liked to introduce Martha to Dotty, but thought better of that idea since it could provoke too many questions. Her mother would want to know why someone who worked for a documentary film company was working on a Government Employees charity with a person employed by the Agriculture Dept. Of course...'IFF did do those documentaries about tractors and crop rotation.......... No, better not take a chance,' she decided.  
  
Martha liked telling that story. Losing her *one true love* in a war was a great sympathy-getter and with the tender hearted Mrs. King, it had worked even better than usual. She was sure that, at least so far, Amanda didn't suspect that she was an enemy agent.   
In any case, the opportunity to photograph the highly secret file code-named *Roundup* had presented itself. Tomorrow she would be alone in the office for at least two hours, more than enough time to accomplish her mission. It would all be over - soon.  
  
-------------  
  
The Gala was the next day and Amanda and Martha had finished their work - coordinating the events for the *big spenders* so they would have no problem attending all the functions at which they would be likely to donate the most money. Also, arranging for the decorations, the food, the music and all the other little details necessary to make the affair a success.   
The ladies of the committee were happy and now it was just a matter of seeing to it that the hotel staff carried out the plan.  
  
----------  
  
Lee had gone over all the material at least three times. Files, printouts, notes, microfilm, travel schedules. He was beginning to wonder if this whole thing wasn't some kind of test of The Agency that I.A.I.S. had set up. It seemed pretty obvious to him from the evidence that the *only* one who had access to all the stolen intelligence was Martha Dubin. She was D.I.A.'s mole.   
He knew it was not going to be easy to convince Amanda of his conclusion. He mentally braced himself for the confrontation he knew was coming.  
  
------------  
  
"Amanda," Lee paced back and forth, repeatedly hitting his fist into the open palm of his other hand for emphasis, "I have gone over and over the evidence and believe me, none of these three guys had access to *all* the information that was being passed. The only person who could have seen every document that we know was sent to the KGB is your Ms. Dubin!"  
  
"Lee, remember when I was being setup?" Amanda started pacing too, back and forth in the small area in front of the desk.  
  
"Yeah, and do you remember who was setting you up?" Lee stopped and fixed her with an intense gaze. "Margaret Brock, the executive secretary to Mitch Larner, our Director. Someone who was in exactly the same kind of position as Martha Dubin. Amanda, think about it. It's........."  
  
Amanda cut in, "It's not the same. *I'm* not being setup." She stood still and faced him.,  
  
"Aren't you?" Lee put his hands on her shoulders. "You're being set up as her defender. Billy trusts your instincts, especially after that business with Dr. Towne. I think he trusts your instincts more than he does mine and that's what's keeping us from really going after Ms. Dubin. He believes your report on her."  
  
"But Lee......." She pulled away from his grasp.  
  
"But Amanda," he said a little bit too sarcastically for Amanda's taste, "I've been able to clear the others and there is nobody left *but* Martha Dubin. She has got to be the mole. But she has you in her corner."  
  
"You're so sure that these others are clean and the bad guy has to be my friend," Amanda glared, standing with her hands on her hips.  
  
Lee leaned forward across his desk, "Yes."  
  
---------------  
  
Martha had decided that the Gala was the perfect place to pass the information on Operation Roundup. She had photographed the entire file and the microfilm was safely wrapped in a small package, ready to be sent on to Moscow.  
The main hall of the Mount Vernon Hotel was beautifully decorated. A string quartet was playing in the background, though it was unlikely that anyone could hear it, above the din.  
Martha could feel the all too familiar fear gnawing away at her burning stomach, but she knew how to appear calm. She was to meet her contact by the south entrance. He would be disguised as a delivery man. She had ten minutes to make her way through this milling, shuffling, laughing and talking mass of humanity. As she moved through the throng, gently pushing and excusing herself now and again, she ran, quite literally, into Amanda King.  
  
"Martha, hi. I didn't expect to see you here today," Amanda said, happy to see her friend.  
  
"Oh, Mrs. King. No, I ahh, I certainly didn't expect to see you either." This couldn't be happening. Of all people to run into. Amanda - who could easily launch into a ten minute diatribe, without even taking a breath!  
  
"Well, it looks like this is going to be a big success. I'm sure all the ladies on our committee will be pleased and of course the really important people who organize this thing will be too. It's so nice to know that so many worthy groups will get financial help fr........."  
  
"*Mrs. King*, if you don't mind, I really am in rather a hurry. Please excuse me." With that Martha turned and rushed off.  
  
Amanda was tall enough to see that, after a few steps, Martha had changed directions and was now headed for the south side of the room.   
She couldn't understand this sudden change in attitude. Why her friend, or a person whom she had come to regard as a friend, wanted, so obviously, to avoid her. Why indeed? Could she be engaged in some activity that she didn't want Amanda to see? Could Lee have been right about this woman? She had to get close enough to find out what Martha was up to.  
Looking around the crowded room, Amanda spotted Martha again, standing near a doorway. She seemed to be talking to a man who was wearing some kind of uniform - a delivery man of some sort. He had a dolly with several packages on it. As Amanda walked quickly through the crowd, towards the two, she was sure that Martha had passed a small box to the man. He didn't put with the other packages, but rather slipped it into his jacket pocket.   
Amanda stopped. She was, she thought, concealed behind a very large post. She could just barely hear the conversation between Martha and the *delivery man* over the sounds of the crowd.  
  
Martha's last words were, "Goodbye comrade," and she smiled at him. As she walked away, the man turned and pushed the dolly through the door and out of sight.  
  
Amanda was stunned. She stood there for a moment, not sure of what to do. She hadn't seen Lee or any other Agency personnel. Looking nervously around the room for someone who could help her, she felt very alone. Then, all of a sudden, she realized she wasn't alone. Martha was standing there, slightly behind her, and there was something that felt very much like a weapon pressed into her side.  
"Mrs. King, why couldn't you have stayed home with your sons today? *Move*!"   
  
-----------  
  
Amanda half stumbled down the stairs leading to the basement, Martha Dubin's gun shoved painfully into her ribs.  
  
"Martha, you can't get away with this. My partner knows about you. Killing me will just make it worse."  
  
She pushed Amanda into a room filled with large pieces of equipment, generators, heating, cooling and electrical pipes, ducts and conduits. It was hot, noisy and about the last place in the world that Amanda wanted to be.  
"Your partner doesn't know where we are. I'm really sorry about this, my dear," Ms. Dubin smiled faintly as she cocked the pistol she was now pointing at Amanda's chest. "Your support and your belief in my innocence has been invaluable. It is obvious that my colleagues had been cleared in this investigation, but you kept Mr. Stetson and The Agency at bay until I was able to finish my assignment. My last assignment. I should say thank you, I guess. Unfortunately, I have no further use for you. And now, since you have discovered my little secret, killing you is the only option I have. Goodbye Mrs. King."  
  
"Hold it right there," Lee said menacingly. He poked the muzzle of his gun into Ms. Dubin's neck as he reached around and took the weapon from her hand. "You all right?" He asked softly as he looked into Amanda's eyes, which were wide with fright.  
  
"Yeah, I'm....I'm fine.....now. Lee, she passed something in a small package to a man wearing a brown uniform. It had the name of some local delivery service on it....."  
  
"I know Amanda. We were watching. I was *finally* able to convince Billy to put a team on her. We got him as he left the hotel."  
  
Lee allowed Martha to turn and face him. "You arrested the courier?" she asked.  
  
"We sure did," Lee grinned.  
  
Martha hung her head. "I've failed, my last and most important assignment and I have failed!"  
  
"Yeah," Lee said in a harsh tone of voice, "you have."  
  
Amanda walked over and stood beside Lee. He stuck Martha's gun in his pocket and then put his arm around Amanda's waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. "It's OK," he said softly. She was very good at her job and she tricked a lot of people over the years. But we got her. She's out of the spy business for good."  
  
Amanda just nodded and then leaned her head against Lee's shoulder.  
  
It was over. Lee was here. She was safe.  
  
------------  
  
TAG  
  
"Oh, Lee, I feel so foolish. I *am* foolish. You *tried* to tell me about her, but I wouldn't listen. I trusted Ms. Dubin just the way I trusted Edson Ballon and Alan Squir....."  
  
Lee smiled. If he had been just the tiniest bit annoyed at her stubborn refusal to believe what he had tried to tell her about Martha's guilt - it was all forgotten as he looked into her eyes.  
"Amanda," he interrupted, taking her hands in his, "don't....don't punish yourself. Trusting people is - well it's your nature. You're open hearted and you see good in a person until they prove you wrong. That's one of the reasons why I lo..., er, I ahh, I like, ahh, working with you. We......we make such a great team because, well, I may see the hopeful side of a situation but I'm way too cynical when it comes to human nature. You manage to see the good in people."  
  
Amanda looked up at Lee. She had to smile. He started to say he loved....something or...well.....maybe....someone. That stuttering explanation appeared to be an attempt to conceal his feelings. But it seemed as though that was becoming more difficult for him to do - more difficult every day.   
  
end 


End file.
